


Insubordinate

by hitokiri



Series: Love Claims Possession [2]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean spanking Sam, Episode: s02e03 Bloodlust, M/M, Spanking, implied bottom Sam
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:41:13
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,099
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hitokiri/pseuds/hitokiri
Summary: Dean makes good on his "remind me to beat the buzzkill out of you" promise by spanking Sammy.
Relationships: Dean Winchester/Sam Winchester
Series: Love Claims Possession [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1760491
Kudos: 59





	Insubordinate

**Author's Note:**

> Second written fic in my Dean spanking Sam series.  
> From an anonymous ask:  
> "Chdjsjdbbdbd dean spanking Sam!! Is so good!! Idc which dean or which Sam but Sam getting put over dean’s knee is GREAT"
> 
> originally posted on tumblr April 25, 2020.

Dean waits for an opportune moment, and never stops thinking about his insubordinate, sassy little brother. They’re two states away from where they left Gordon tied to a chair, and Dean’s winded down from their discovery that not all monsters are, in fact, _monsters_ and all he can think about was Sam’s attitude in the bar -- though he no longer blames him, considering Gordon turned out to be everything Sam assumed he would be -- and he wants to follow through on that threat.

Now.

He takes the first exit off the interstate that has a motel on the sign by the ramp and heads in the direction of the motel. A couple miles down he spots it and wants to whoop in joy when he sees the vacancy sign lit up. He’s tired and wired with the adrenaline for what he’s about to do.

Sam’s asleep in the passenger seat and Dean gently shakes him awake. He startles but sits up straight nonetheless and looks groggily over at Dean. “C’mon, kiddo,” Dean says, grinning at Sam. “Lie down in a real bed, yeah?” Sam nods and they get out of the Impala. Sam busies himself with their bags in the trunk while Dean books their room. Dean parked all the way on the end for a reason, asking specifically for that room.

When they get inside, Sam goes to head for the bathroom presumably to shower, but Dean halts him with a terse, “Sam.” He knows it’s the tone of his voice that makes Sam’s shoulders tense and he thinks, _good_ , as Sam turns around to face him. “I think I promised you a beating, kiddo.”

“You - I - _what_?”

“You heard me.”

Dean removes his leather jacket and lays it over the back of the dining chair, then rolls up his sleeves. Sam stands there, mouth agape, and doesn’t move as Dean unbuttons his jeans and raises an eyebrow in challenge. He sits on the end of the bed closest to the door, says, “Pants off.” There’s no room for disobedience in his tone. He watches the emotions flit across his smart little brother’s face; watches as he weighs his options, _fight or flight_ , or just to give in. He knows had he been their father, Sam would fight him tooth and nail and refuse punishment, which only made it worse for him.

But Sam doesn’t refuse Dean -- _can’t_ refuse Dean -- not when Dean’s like this: angry and keyed up.

The intention to disobey seems to dissipate from Sam’s boyish face and melt into resignation as he unbuttons and unzips his jeans and lets them fall around his ankles. He steps out of them gracelessly, then cautiously steps towards Dean, who says, “Underwear, too,” to Sam’s utter chagrin. If Dean wasn’t trying to maintain his dominance and anger, he would have grinned.

Sam stands, naked from the waist down, and Dean appraises him appreciatively. Sam flushes under his scrutiny and he takes pity on him, patting a thigh. His nerdy little brother gets it right away, and does as he’s silently told. Sam never liked this humiliation, but he knows he won’t ever get nothing out of it. He sprawls out belly down across Dean’s jean-clad thighs and waits. Knows better than to speak when Dean is like this.

Breathes.

Dean smooths a calloused palm over one round buttock and Sam trembles under the soft touch, goosebumps dancing across his smooth flesh.

“You are beautiful, Sammy,” Dean whispers soothingly, continuing to massage the perfect globe. “But you’re an insubordinate little bitch sometimes, aren’t you? Not listening to your big brother -” _smack_ , Sam flinches, lets out a hiss of breath, “- being disrespectful -” _smack_ , harder, a whine, “- no wonder dad had to take his belt to you more than a few times, huh?” He soothes the hurts with his warm palm. “You know I take care of my little brother, though, right? Not like dad did, hm?” He spreads his thighs just enough, just _so_ , so that Sam’s -- very interested -- dick drops down between Dean’s thighs, ensuring that there’s no friction.

Dean’s palm crashes back down with another _smack_ , louder than the last two, and Sam arches with a pained moan. “Now, baby boy,” Dean says, no nonsense, “I’m gonna give you ten more and you’re going to take them like a good boy for me, right?” Sam nods. “Then you’re going to suck me off and I’ll decide if I want to let you come tonight.” Sam lets out a whine but knows not to speak or he definitely won’t get to come. “ _Such_ a good boy for me.” He pets the spank-red buttock and cracks his hand down again.

And again.

And again.

All the way up to the ten he promised.

Sam’s shaking in his lap, whimpering in what Dean knows is both pain and pleasure. Sam doesn’t get turned on by spanking -- he doesn’t have a kink for pain -- he gets turned on by Dean’s hands on him, marking him, by Dean’s words of filthy encouragement. He’s turned on by Dean’s hard dick under his belly as he’s spanked over and over until his ass is raw and burning. His flat stomach rubbing Dean’s hard dick through layers of cotton and denim with each smack against his abused ass.

While Sam recovers from the hits, Dean grinds his hips up, hissing at the rough fabric between them. He slips a dry finger into the crack of Sam’s ass, pressing against the pucker that he hasn’t touched in days, and Sam _keens_ , this inhuman sound coming out of his swollen, pink lips. He pushes harder, gets the tip inside. Sam squirms, trying to crawl away but has no leverage to do so. Dean’s other hand presses down on the sweaty small of Sam’s back, keeps him still, as his finger goes in to the first knuckle.

“That’s it, sweetheart,” he whispers, pushing slow. “That’s it, you can take me, baby.”

Sam’s mouth opens and he turns to Dean, his big puppy dog eyes in full force staring right through Dean. He wants to speak, Dean knows, but this is part of Sam’s punishment and training.

In the end it’s the tears that get him.

He retracts his finger, pets Sam’s messy hair when he lets out a relieved breath. “I’d never hurt you, Sammy, you know that, right?” Sam nods, letting his head drop. “Now c’mon, pull me out, kiddo, put that pretty mouth to good use and I’ll eat that pretty little ass of yours until you scream. Next time I’ll fuck the buzzkill outta you, yeah?”


End file.
